


The Hunter and the Huntress

by SilverFang4190



Category: Aliens vs Predators Series - Various Authors, Predator (1987), Predator Series
Genre: Alpha Males, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Animal Instincts, Animal Traits, Cat/Human Hybrids, Control Issues, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Human Experimentation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-01-05 22:43:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12198873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFang4190/pseuds/SilverFang4190
Summary: Based off the movie "Predator"! What happens if Major Dutch was ordered to take a specially made government weapon with him? PredatorOC.





	1. The Secret Weapon

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based off the 1987 Predator movie, however, as the series goes on we will go deeper into the world of yautja and the aliens. I hope you enjoy it and just remember I own nothing of the Predator universe except for my own character.

Dutch breathed a silent sigh of relief once the helicopter touched down on its landing pad. He watched as his team exited it with their duffels and gear. He slowly lit a cigar and took a few gentle drags on it before exiting himself with his own stuff. The entire base was alive with activity as was expected in a military base. With another puff he nodded farewell to his team before a jeep drove him towards the stairs that lead up to the main office. Once the jeep came to a stop Dutch soon caught sight of the heading General of the base as he stepped away from the vehicle.

The General gave a welcoming smile as he extended his hand to him, “Looking good, Dutch.”

He took his hand with the same smile while he took the offered hand, “It’s been a long time, General.”

The General nodded good naturedly before he tilted his head to the building behind him, “Come on inside.”

Dutch followed him without question into the gloomy looking building. Everywhere there were supply crates, some tables with chairs, and lots of paperwork littering them. Dutch watched as the General took a rolled up map from one the stacks and spread it before them.

“18 hours ago, we lost a chopper carrying a cabinet minister and his aide from this charming little country,” he began in a very sarcastic tone coloring his words making Dutch smirk around his cigar, “We’ve got a transponder fixed on their position about here.”

Dutch frowned in thought as he stared to where he had pointed to on the map, “This cabinet minister, does he always travel on the wrong side of the border?”

He was quickly given an answering grimace, “Apparently, they strayed off course and we’re fairly certain that they are in guerrilla hands.”

The younger man slowly breathed out the thick tobacco smoke before asking, “Why don’t you use the regular army? What do you need us for?”

“Because some damn fool accused you of being the best.”

Dutch turned in surprise at the familiar voice, “Dillon! You son of a bitch.”

The black man stood with a grin as the two approached each other and clasped hands warmly. Both men strained against each others’ grip, Dillon more so than Dutch but the warmth behind the grip didn’t change.

Dutch smirked at the shaking of the other’s arm, “What’s the matter, the CIA got you pushing too many pencils?” Seeing he wasn’t going to get any reply besides the heavy breathing he pushed harder, “Huh, had enough?”

“Make it easier on yourself, Dutch,” gasped Dillon straining against his grip noticing that he was clearly losing the game, “Okay, okay!”

He chuckled in return, “You never did know when to quit.”

Dillon merely grinned and shook his shoulder lightly, “Damn good to see you, Dutch.”

Dutch laughed before grabbing Dillon’s tie in a mocking gesture, “What is this fucking tie business?” 

Dillon rolled his eyes at his friend’s try at a joke, “Forget about my tie, I heard about that job you pulled off in Berlin very nice.”

He nodded at the compliment in appreciation, “Yeah, like the good old days.”

Dillon gave him a questioning look as he led him to the table he used for a desk, “Then why did you pass up Libya?”

Dutch shrugged nonchalantly, “That wasn’t my style.”

“You don’t have a style you know that, Dutch,” corrected Dillon firmly wanting a straight answer, “Come on. Why did you pass?”

Dutch didn’t answer right away as he carefully relit his cigar, “We’re a rescue team, not assassins. Now, what do we got to do?”

Dillon and the General shared a look before the General stood up to take up the conversation, “That cabinet minister is important to our operations in this part of the world.”

Dillon gave a drawl tilt of his head as he turned to Dutch, “Dutch, the General is saying that some of our friends are about to get squeezed and we can’t let that happen. So we need the best… you.”

Dutch eyed them both, “Go on.”

“Simple set up, one day operation,” began Dillon in a business tone as he began to lay out the plan, “We pick up their trail at the chopper, run them down, grab the hostages, and bounce back over the borders before anyone knows we we’re there.”

Dutch gave a questioning look, “What do you mean ‘we’?”

He grinned, “I’m going in with you, Dutch.”

This wasn’t received easily as Dutch turned to the General with a frown, “General, my team always works alone. You know that.”

The General’s face was as passive as stone, “I’m afraid we all have our orders, Major. Once you reach your objective, Dillon will evaluate the situation and take charge. You will have our secret tool to help you encase you run into trouble.”

“Secret… tool?” asked Dutch warily, “What is this tool?”

Dillon chuckled patting his shoulder, “Don’t worry, Dutch, I’ll be the one keeping her in line.”

“Her?” he asked clearly confused, “I thought this was some kind of tracking tool.”

“Well, kind of in a sense she is,” he replied motioning towards what at first glance appeared to be a crate covered in a white tarp, “She is in there.”

Dutch looked at it then at him questioningly, “What do you mean?”

Dillon shook his head before reaching over and pulling off the tarp revealing a young woman blindfolded with a collar around her neck crouched in the back of a cage, “That’s ‘her’.”

The other man frowned in shock and disgust, “Her? She is a woman. Why do you have her like that?”

The young woman looked like she was in her early twenties. Her body from what he could tell was slim and gracefully proportioned, but as she shifted further to the back of the cage with a growl, that she had an impressive amount of muscle. She had a thick mane of golden-orange hair with what looked like black, leopard rosettes patterned in it and all over her arms, neck, and some on her face.

“Pretty isn’t she,” stated Dillon taking up a small remote, “She is the product of DNA splicing. Her genes were molded with those of a female leopard. Project 246 is used in special missions like this one because of her heightened senses, animal instincts, and incredible endurance and stamina she is the perfect military weapon.”

Dutch knelt down in front of the cage’s door watching as she turned her face to face him as well, “This is barbaric, Dillon. How could someone do this to another human being?”

“That is none of our concern, my friend,” he stated firmly watching as she scented the air curiously, “The only thing that you need to know is that we will be taking her on the mission. She was created for this kind of terrain and if she gets out of hand well all I have to do is press this button.”

When he did so the girl let forth a snarl of pain and anger that caused her to collapse into a twitching ball.

“Stop it damn you!” yelled Dutch putting his hand through the bars to touch her shoulder but he had to quickly pull it back as she swung around to snap what could only be fangs at him. He watched in disbelief while she dragged herself as far back into the cage as she could possibly go.

“She will obey any command given to her with great accuracy,” continued Dillon like it didn’t bother him at all that he had hurt the panting female, “Project 246 is the best weapon the government can offer and she will be a great asset to our mission.”

Dutch glared up at him in disbelief, “How can you just do something like that to her?”

He shook his head impatiently, “Dutch, she isn’t human anymore. All that she has now is an animal’s instincts and ways of thinking.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that she is still human no matter what her mind is,” challenged Dutch staring at his friend angrily.

Dillon returned the look before harshly pointing a finger at the silent figure in the cage, “We have our orders, Dutch, she is coming with us whether you like it or not. Project 246 is our back up plan and she could just as well be the thing that saves our asses out there.”

Dutch glared after his long time friend. Turning he looked at the small, crouched figure that remained silent through the argument, “Don’t worry, Girl, I’ll make certain you’re treated fairly on this mission.”

She didn’t make a move as if she understood which caused him to sigh slightly before leaving as well. Yet, when he had left the room completely Project 246 raised her head with a slight pearling sound in her throat at the words of kindness. She had never experienced such a thing before and it brought her a warm feeling in her heart. Maybe this man wouldn’t be like the other keepers like the black male. Maybe this male would show her more of this kindness that she had only dreamed of.


	2. Dressed to Kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you are all dolled up might as well go out slaying!!

“Wake up, girl, time to go to work,” said a male voice that she quickly recognized to be the black, male keeper. Project 246 growled quietly in annoyance at the interruption of her nap, but it wasn’t like she wasn’t excited to finally get out of the accursed cage they had her in.

Dillon watched her reactions for a moment but seeing that she was calm and compliant he took a key and opened the cage for her, “Out you come.”

She walked out on all fours her shoulders popping up and down like a big cats’. With a long stretch and effectively popping every bone possible she then sat quietly, waiting for her instructions.

“Project 246, your mission is to protect the team you are assigned to. You are to obey every order that is given to you from either Major Dutch or myself is that understood?” asked Dillon firmly.

She nodded her head in understanding before standing onto her two legs but she made no motion of violence or malice as she waited patiently.  
He nodded his own understanding before carefully removing the blindfold from her eyes, revealing her dazzling emerald eyes that danced around in curiosity and suspicion.

“Dillon, I…” began another male voice making her stiffen with a bearing of teeth.

Dillon quickly showed her the remote that controlled the shock collar around her neck causing her to quickly cover her teeth with her lips returning to her passive stance, “Careful, Dutch, I just took off the blindfold so she is kind of edgy and ready to go.”

Project 246 watched the larger man observe her curiously. Her nose told her that this was the man that had said such kind words to her. She tilted her head to the side in a show of her good natured side before Dillon motioned for her attention.

“Project 246, this is your other commanding officer Dutch,” he said making certain that the collar’s remote was her line of vision as she approached Dutch.

Dutch blinked in wonder at the small woman that approached him with such grace and elegance that seemed inhuman, yet he had to remember that she wasn’t quite human. To his astonishment she lowered her head slightly to him before saluting, “Project 246 at your service, sir.”

“Um, at ease,” he stuttered slightly from the shook of hearing her sweet gentle voice, but that was canceled out by the hard glint of anger and contempt that lay bottled in her glowing green eyes.

“Don’t try getting into a long conversation with her,” interrupted Dillon handing her a pile of new clothes, “She has only been taught to say enough to answer in missions. Go change into these in the bathroom.”

She nodded in understanding before gathering them up and going into the indicated bathroom.

“Are we supposed to give her a gun?” asked Dutch his eyes following her until she closed the door.

Dillon shook his head with a laugh, “No, this girl only works with knives and blades. The only things we give her are those and a pack filled with medicine, her poncho, and some water.”

“What about food?” he asked as Dillon packed all said things into a small backpack.

“She has been trained to not have to eat for long extended periods of time,” he elaborated zipping up the pack with a flourish.

Dutch frowned at this before asking, “When was the last time she ate exactly?”

His friend stopped with a thoughtful look, “I believe it was when they brought her in about a week and a half ago.”

He blinked in disbelief, “Why are you starving her like this?”

Dillon shook his head, “Dutch, she would be a dangerous thing if we allowed her to stay at full strength.”

Dutch opened his mouth to counter it, but stopped as the bathroom door opened. Project 246 stood there in all her dangerous glory. She was dressed in long, camouflaged, cargo pants, a black form fitting tank top that stopped a little bit above her midriff to show some of her exotic rosettes against her flat stomach. Then for her shoes she had a pair of black, leather boots with a slight heel. In other words she was dressed to kill.

Dillon merely nodded at her before motioning her forward where he threw a padded military vest and a leather harness at her, “Put these on and I’ll arm you.” Once she did as she was told to he put a pair of sais in her chest harness, a hunting knife on each of her boots, a machete blade on her waist, and her pack on her back, “These are to remain sheathed.”

She nodded even though her hands itched and twitched to do the opposite and bury her beloved blades into this man before her.

“Now let’s get moving the chopper is waiting for us,” he said pocketing the remote under her heavy gaze before he once again blindfolded her.

Dutch watched all of this in silence as he followed them outside toward the landing pad, “Why do we need to keep her blinded?”

“She is easier to handle this way,” answered Dillon holding onto one of her arms firmly, “It makes her more compliant to us.”

Dutch nodded as he acknowledged his team’s greetings and there confused looks toward the young woman, “She is our ace in the deck, boys, don’t ask questions just leave her be.”

They all nodded without question as they all climbed into the chopper and settled in for the ride ahead. Dillon pushed Project 246 to crouch against the bench between him and Dutch, “Sit and behave, girl.”

She remained silent but in truth her heart was beating in excitement at the thought of being out in the wild jungle. To be able to breathe in the fresh air, feel grass and good soil under foot, and enjoy the thrill of being a huntress in her own terrain. To finally be able to run free and unencumbered by any force of nature. Her train of thought was broken by the sound of a radio being turned on full blast and the smell of tobacco. From what she could tell there were five other men besides her two keepers.

“Rendezvous points and radio freqs are indicated and fixed,” said Dillon’s voice over her head causing her to shift uneasily to touch the collar around her neck, “AWACS contact on four-hour intervals.”

Dutch nodded but he noticed how the girl shifted nervously away from the one she knew had the remote to her collar, “Who is our back up?”

Dillon shook his head with a grim smile, “No such thing, old buddy. This is a one way ticket. Once we cross that border, we’re on our own.”

He smiled himself at the humor of the dangerous situation, “This is getting better by the minute.”

She bared her teeth in a grimace before she settled into her usual crouch ignoring them all. Her only thoughts was on the oncoming time when she could be set loose to do her job… and maybe find some food and water while she was at it. It had been a long time now since her keepers had fed her a decent meal much less the fresh meat her belly so desperately ached for. She always looked forward to being able to work because that always meant time they didn’t pay attention to her every move meaning she could slip away to find the nourishment she needed. Placing a hand over her stomach to silence the growl it issued as if it could already sense the food that it was going to receive. Once again her train of thought was interrupted but this time it was the familiar beep to signal for the exiting of the chopper.

“Right,” said Dutch before removing his headset to motion at his team to prepare to disembark. He glanced down at the now quivering girl at his feet. It looked like she was going to explode from the strain of having to hold herself in check, but as Dillon’s hand touched the top of her head she went as still as death.

“Time to let the cat out of the bag, Dutch, and see her in action,” he said as he took a firm grip on the collar around her neck and with the other ripped the blindfold off to reveal her flashing eyes. She strained against his hold toward the door, snarling her excitement and anger at being held. She knew that behind that closed door laid the wilderness she craved…the freedom that awaited her untamed spirit.

“Looks like the little lady is ready to party,” commented Blain as he and the others watched the display passively, “I like her style.”

Dutch opened the sliding door sending her into even a greater frenzy. Her eyes wide in joy as she took her first breath of clean, forest air. The scent of the plants, soil, water, and other creatures sent her senses on overdrive.

Dillon took a firmer grip on her before leaning over slightly to get a good look at the canopy below,” I never knew how much I missed this, Dutch.”

Dutch smirked at him and looked from the forest to the snarling girl, “You were never that smart. Now let her go before she hurts herself.”

He nodded in return before releasing his grip on the only thing keeping her in the chopper.

The girl gave a hiss of joy as she launched herself from them into the air causing all of them to curse at her stunt, but that didn’t faze her in the least as she began to drop to the forest floor. For once in a long time she smiled at the wind in her face and the oncoming tree line. With the agile prowess only found in cats she quickly grabbed a tree branch and swung herself down to the ground to wait for the rest of the team. All the girl could do was grin at the good earth under her hands and feet. She had to firmly restrain herself from lying down and rolling in to rid herself of the terrible smells of her keepers on her skin. The hybrid jerked her head to look at the black cable that was thrown from the helicopter making her crouch in attention while the team touched down in front of her. She watched them in passive silence now that she was loose, but she knew better than to seem rebellious towards them.


	3. A Hunter's Respect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evidence is found that there might be something more deadly than our band of merry soldiers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your patience and support! I have several chapters waiting to come out that just need a little ironing out. Until then please enjoy this one!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the Predator universe, however, they hybrid is my very own character.

Once they had all assembled and made sure that their equipment was secure Dutch looked over at the young woman and motioned her to take point. With light steps she brushed past him on all fours, silent as an angel of death.

            The hybrid let her senses out like a net to search for any signs of guerrillas or anything that would do the team harm, but that wasn’t quite what she found. As she led the team forward into the thick jungle she sensed that something wasn’t right. The animals were all tense and much quieter than normal. She couldn’t smell or see anything that could cause this reaction from the wild life, however in the leopard part of her brain she knew that something lurked out there watching. Something that made her stop and crouch low for a second causing Dutch to whistle at her in a bird call signal. Project 246 flinched at the harsh sound before continuing on like nothing had happened, yet she remained alert. Something was out there… something far more dangerous than guerrillas or her keepers that crept close behind.

            Dutch stood a few paces behind the girl watching as her head swung slightly from side to side scenting the air. He didn’t know what had caused her to hesitate the way she had. When she had stopped it been like she had sensed something and it had somehow confused and frightened her. However, the minute he whistled for a response Project 246 had shied away slightly causing her bright eyes to flash in alarm yet she loped ahead back into formation like nothing had happened. Dutch blinked curiously at the strange act.

            “What’s the matter, Major?” breathed Poncho moving up to stand beside the large man.

            “Nothing,” replied Dutch not taking his eyes off the golden head, “let’s keep moving.”

            The team moved silently through the forest making a full sweep of the area. It wasn’t until several hours when Project 246 gave forth a light rumble signaling the team together. Dutch quickly moved to her side looking at her stiffened posture while she gazed fixedly up into a large tree revealing the position of the downed helicopter.

            “Good, girl,” praised Dillon placing a hand on her head causing her to grimace, which wasn’t missed by the rest of the team.

            Dutch ignored this for the moment when Poncho looked back at him for permission to proceed. With a nod he was swinging a grappling hook up onto the plane before climbing up with Dillon close behind. Once Dillon was out of sight Dutch looked over at the crouching girl who seemed completely passive to the operations going on around her, “Hey.” She quickly glanced up at him waiting for his orders, “Go with Billy. I want you two to find out what happened here and see if you can pick up a trail.”

            She swiftly nodded, “Yes, sir!” Then followed after Billy, who watched her in interest.

            The two quickly set to working out the mess of different foot prints and brush damage left by the people that had been there before them. It was easy enough for Project 246 to scent the guerrillas, who smelled like gun powder and old blood along with the two CIA agents. She carefully maneuvered around the area making sure to take every sight and smell into account, yet something was off. Her eyes flickered once over the team knowing that none of them except herself had been near this particular area… then why were there other foot prints with the army issued mark? She growled lowly in agitation causing Billy to join her to look at what was bothering her. The moment he spied the foot prints he too frowned in wonder, “This isn’t right.”

            He nodded at her while placing a firm hand on her shoulder giving it a light shake, “Good job, Luna.”

            She made a confused sound in her throat, frowning at the odd address to her person. Seeing this Billy’s lips quirked up in amusement, “You don’t think I’m going to call you by your government given name? We are the same you and I. You deserve as much respect and acknowledgements as any of us do.”

            She still gazed up at him in confusion. Why was this keeper doing this? As Project 246 all she knew were commands. What was the point in naming her?

            “You have the spirit of the great cats in you, which is very apparent. All cats find their greatest strengths from the moon so it seems natural to call you Luna after the great Sister of the Earth. That is if you find it suitable of course.”

            The newly dubbed Luna gazed back at him with a wary look, but made no inclination to her feelings about the name.

            “Very well, Luna it is,” confirmed Billy while they moved back to the rest of the team.

            The hybrid easily bounded ahead of him allowing her to return first. Seeing that the head keeper and one of his soldiers were talking, she silently settled onto a sturdy stump.

             “The pilots have each got one round in the head,” reported Poncho grimly, “Whoever hit it stripped the shit out of it.”

            The major, however, didn’t seem surprised by the damage report, “They took them out with a heat seeker.”

            The Chicano nodded in agreement before continuing in a strained fashion as if the findings disturbed him slightly, “There is something else, Major, this is no ordinary army taxi. It looks more like a surveillance bird to me.”

            The conversation was soon interrupted when Dillon moved over to the two making them fall silent, “Picked up the trail yet?”

            Dutch turned his head to him in a lazy but powerful way. Clearly showing that he knew who was in command and it certainly wasn’t Dillon, “Billy and the girl are on it. Heat seeker, Dillon. It seems pretty sophisticated for half assed mountain boys.”

            The CIA agent didn’t miss a beat, “They must be getting better equipped every day.”

            With a scratch of her claws on the rough wood of the stump Luna made Billy and her presences known when he finally appeared beside her.

            “Major, there were twelve guerrillas and they took the two men from the helicopter, but Luna found something strange.”

            The major’s eyes moved to look at the named girl, but didn’t question it. He was glad that the team was accepting her, “What did you find… Luna is it?”

            Luna nodded before raising her head to reply, “Army boots, Sir.”

            Billy quickly took up the explanation knowing she didn’t like to speak, “Six men wearing U.S. issued army boots. They came in from the North and then followed the guerillas.”

            Dutch paused a minute allowing the information to sink in before turning to address Dillon who was looking rather fixedly at the hybrid female with an essence of malice, “Mean anything to you, Dillon?”

            Dillon snapped his attention away from Luna, who was crouched with her belly to the ground in submission to his hold on the remote, “Probably just another rebel patrol. They operate in here all the time.”

            This was met with a contemplative look from Dutch, but he soon shook himself from his thoughts to look sharply over at Billy and Luna, “You two, get ahead and see what you can find.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            “Yes, sir.”

            Once the two had disappeared up ahead Dutch turned to glare at Dillon, who was watching the retreating back of the hybrid, “Leave her alone, Dillon. She is a part of this team so she will be treated like anyone of us.”

            The CIA agent merely brought his gun to rest on his bicep while giving Dutch a drawl look, “Let an animal run wild then you’ll never be able to control it again.” He then turned his back and moved away to join the formation leaving Dutch to frown coldly at his back.

            Luna and Billy moved silently up ahead scanning for any signs of the guerrillas or the army patrol. Both moved with silence born of years of tracking while they helped the team move safely into guerilla territory. Luna, however, grew tired of the ground below and decided to get a bird’s eye view of the forest. The hybrid made swift work of scaling one of the trees her muscles contracting and relaxing smoothly just like the big cats that had help make her. Luna raised her head briefly to the rays of the sun that penetrated the thick canopy. She marveled at the lovely warmth that danced across her skin like the gentle touch of a lover.

            Dutch glanced up slightly when the leaves rustled up above. What he saw stopped him in his tracks. Luna stood quietly on a branch with her face up turned to the sun whose rays dappled her in a warm glow that brought out the black rosettes on her body and hair. She looked like a forest spirit enjoying the essence of her home, but one look around her neck brought the chill of reality. The collar showed how she was bound to a world that wasn’t her own. He felt his heart constrict in his chest at the thought. Dutch stood completely still as she turned her face down towards him, her flashing eyes burning straight into his soul. He felt completely transfixed by her gaze much like a mouse would feel when stared down by a cat.

            “Dutch?”

            He jerked to glance back at Dillon and his team before quickly looking back up looking for Luna, but to his surprise she had disappeared out of his sight, “Let’s go.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

            Billy looked up noticing the leopard hybrid maneuvering the trees as easily as if it were the ground he walked on. They shared a single look and nod of understanding before she continued on. Billy moved on as well but not before grabbing one of the vines that hung from the trees and sliced it open causing the water within it to flow out. The water was slightly bitter yet refreshing to his parched mouth as he swallowed greedily. He paused when he saw the little female stop in her tracks in a tree a little away from him with her head trained to the right. That’s when he heard the sound of vultures and noticed the unnatural stillness of the forest.

 

‘Something isn’t right.’

 

            He moved carefully in the direction of the screeching birds making sure to keep his cover the entire time. Billy looked up gauging the hybrid’s reactions, but she merely remained at a distance watching him before looking up into the trees and the florae he was approaching. Frowning slightly he gripped his machete firmly and moved closer to the flapping noise. He carefully crawled over a log then looking ahead he noticed something red that was hidden by the leaves. Once again he crawled forward and parted the leaves and what he saw would forever haunt his dreams. Staring back at him with a look of pure terror was a skinned man. Billy gasped in horror at the sight while several vultures took flight. Turning back he took several deep breathes to calm his nerves. The rest of the team stood below him staring in shock at the gory sight the skinned bodies made.

            Poncho quickly crossed himself, “Holy Mother of God.”

            The team cautiously moved closer encase there were guerillas lurking around. Luna, however, remained in her tree at a respectful distance from the skinned and gutted corpses. It wasn’t out of respect for the dead soldiers because she could have cared less for the dead keepers. She swallowed nervously while she pressed herself tightly to the tree trunk behind her. The one who killed those men was still near and he was watching them. The hybrid could smell him strongly in the area. Heavy musk mixed in with the rich, clean smells of water and the forest made her nose twitch. This male, whoever and whatever he was, was clearly an alpha male to her mind. She had heard a strange clicking noise just when Billy had stumbled on the corpses. By the way they had been strung up it was clear in her mind that the male had hunted them like wild game. Luna breathed deeply to calm herself but each breath brought more and more of the male’s scent into her system making her slightly light headed. She then focused on what the team was doing. A growl of indignation spilled from her throat when she saw them tampering with the bodies. It wasn’t right to tamper with another hunter’s trophies.

            Dutch watched his men walk through the bodies looking for anyway to identify the bodies. Glancing around he saw Mac use his knife to pluck something out of a pile of intestines and toss it to him. With a quick hand he snatched the bloody object out of the air and found it to be one of the dead men’s dog tags.

            “Jim Hopper.” he breathed in disbelief, “Mac, cut them down.”

            The soldier nodded before using his blade to cut through the ropes that strung the men up like butchered animals. Dutch then turned to Dillon determined to get answers while ignoring Luna’s angry snarl at Mac.

            “I knew these men,” he paused as if he didn’t believe that they were really dead in front of him, “Green Berets out of Fort Bragg. What the hell were they doing here?”

            Dillon looked at the tags fixedly while shaking his head, “I don’t know, Dutch, this is inhuman. Nobody told me there was an operation in this area. They shouldn’t have been here.”

            The major grunted angrily before walking away, “Someone sent them.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

            “The guerrillas skinned them?” questioned Poncho in irritated disbelief to Mac and Blain, “Why did they skin them?”

            Mac shook his head, “Ain’t no way for a soldier to die.”

            Billy a little ways from them remained passive to the conversation as he scouted the area with Luna, who continued to bristle every time one of the team would mess around the male’s territory. It made her skin twitch to know that they were disrespecting a hunter’s trophies. It was completely dishonorable even for the keepers’ terrible ways. Billy ignored her ill temper in favor of picking through some bullet shells on the ground as Major Dutch stepped up beside him.

            “What happened here, Billy?”

            “Strange, Major,” began Billy his voice gruff in thought, “There was a fire fight and they were shooting in all directions.”

            Dutch’s jaw tightened at the news, “I can’t believe that Jim Hopper walked into an ambush.”

            “I don’t believe he did,” began Billy slowly, “I can’t find a single track and neither has she. Luna has been perfectly silent and she has keener senses than I ever could. Just doesn’t make sense.”

            He looked hopefully down at the soldier, “What about the rest of Hopper’s men?”

            “There is no sign, sir.” replied Billy blankly, “They never left here. Hell, it’s like they disappeared.”

            The Major closed his eyes as if in deep thought. When he opened his eyes they were hard with determination, “You and Luna stick to the guerilla trail. Let’s get the hostages.”

            A blood curdling snarl interrupted him as Luna charged Dillon and some of the others driving them away from the groove where the bodies lay. All of them watched in awe and a little fear while the leopard hybrid crouched spitting and snarling. Dutch quickly caught Dillon’s arm before he could grab the remote control for her collar, “No, Dillon!” He slowly stepped away from the livid man to face the fury of the woman’s. “Easy, Luna, what happened?”

            She remained with her back arched and her fangs bared while continuing to hiss and bristle in warning, “Dishonor. Honor of the hunt.” She damned her lack of ability to communicate with the keepers. She didn’t know how to press her point that they were dishonoring themselves by desecrating the male Hunter’s territory and trophies. As a hunter herself, this act from her keepers hit her proud heart worse than any mental or physical torture they could dish out on her.

            Dutch remained silent while he tried to understand why she was acting this way. Billy quickly moved to stand beside him, “Don’t worry, Luna, we are moving out now. We need to find the hostages.”

            Luna slowly relaxed out of her aggressive arch and covered her fangs with her lips, but a growl continued to rumble deep in her chest until the soldiers had moved away to a satisfactory distance. Once she was sure they were far enough she quickly ran to stand at point waiting for her orders like nothing had happened.

            Seeing her falling back into a docile state Dutch raised his hand, “We move, five minute spread. No sound.”

            Blaine and Mac nodded from the side while Mac spoke to his brother in arms, “Time to let Old Painless out of the bag.”

            Blaine smirked in agreement before ripping off the canvas covering on his modified minigun, “Payback time.”

            Luna slunk ahead silently, but quickly stopped when the strange clicking sound came again. Glancing back to the groove of trees she could have sworn she spotted some movement, yet she couldn’t see anyone there. Without breaking out of formation she reared up against a tree and marked it with her claws then rubbed her cheek against the marks to scent it. She hoped the Hunter would see it as an apology for the team, but it was also a warning of what she could do if he forced her to protect them. Luna stepped away from the tree to continue on. If she had stayed after her team had left she would have seen a tall, spotted figure step up to her tree and the large clawed hand that touched the deep slashes in curiosity while he took in the strange scents. Satisfied the figure moved to follow after the military team with their special weapon leading the way.


End file.
